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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076637">Say, I Love You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dae/pseuds/Dae'>Dae</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Clint Barton &amp; Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton is a Mess, Crushes, Deaf Clint Barton, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:31:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26076637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dae/pseuds/Dae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only ever supposed to be a one time thing. Clint would swear it on his father’s grave. One and done. They were both a little drunk, a little desperate, a little lonely even. It didn’t mean anything. Hell, they hardly knew each other!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>195</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Say, I Love You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't know how seriously this story should be taken lol But, that being said, it was a helluva lot of fun to write.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was only ever supposed to be a one time thing. Clint would swear it on his father’s grave. One and done. They were both a little drunk, a little desperate, a little lonely even. It didn’t mean anything. Hell, they hardly knew each other!</p><p>James Barnes—or Bucky—was a friend of a friend. Clint had gotten used to that being the easiest way to describe the guy he usually said ‘‘hi’ to in the hallways, or who he would nod at if they happened to be in the same room. Bucky was Steve’s friend from high school. The guy with the scowl. The guy with the hair. The guy who got into a fight with Pierce junior year when he made a not-so-gentlemanly comment about Natasha’s curvaceous body in the campus library. He was at all the parties and the gatherings and even would be in the same class every semester or so, but he was always just that guy.</p><p>And then Tony Stark happened senior year.</p><p>And yeah, he just sort of happened. Materialized into their little group of friends and mutual friends. Tony had a thing for parties and an even bigger thing for Steve and if you ended up at a Stark event, you likely left with some questionable morals. Clint had gone because Natasha was going, and she was going because Steve begged her to go, which meant Sam and Bucky were going too. Bruce was going because Maria was going because Thor and Loki were going, because Darcy and Jane were going, because Sharon and Peggy were tagging along too. Then that girl whose name always slipped Clint’s mind was going and that meant Peter, who was a freshman and barely legal in every sense of the word, was going.</p><p>Clint could’ve soared through university life without exchanging more than five unique words with Bucky, until that night. They had a hell of a friend group, and most get togethers ended with just that. Maybe a wave, maybe a smile, but hardly any real words. Clint couldn’t even remember if they’d ever been properly introduced, or if he’d sort of learned who Bucky was over the span of three years of hearsay.</p><p>Tony’s party was predictably insane, for lack of a better word. It was loud, everything was expensive, things were breaking and people were all over each other. It was held in one of five New York mansions Tony allegedly owned. This one was apparently the smallest of the bunch. And—well, no. It was likely not an exaggeration. The Stark family was loaded and everybody knew it.</p><p>This one was in the nice part of Brooklyn, which was obviously for Steve’s benefit. Only a bus ride away from Steve’s run-down apartment in the overly gentrified area where mansions like this didn’t stand out like a sore thumb.</p><p>The music was unbearable, so Clint switched his hearing aids off and settled with the dull noise and the heavy vibrations. He was better off reading lips than trying to hear over the noise, so it wasn’t so bad.</p><p>He was holding his own after four shots and a beer, but he was definitely teetering on the wrong side of drunk. Not enough to slur his words beyond recognition, but enough that he tripped three times on his way to the bathroom. One of those times was definitely not his fault, though, he would argue, because someone was conked out on the floor and there was no way he could account for that.</p><p>But his inebriation was an easy excuse for why his eyes were lingering on Bucky for the first time in... ever. And yeah, okay, Bucky was a good looking guy. He was hot as hell, if Clint was being honest. Always had been. But, he’d always given off <em>‘I’m out of your league’</em> vibes, so Clint knew the guy was hot but never gave it more thought than that.</p><p>That night, though, Bucky was something else. His black pants were tight and straining against a nicely rounded ass and thick thighs, and shamefully that had been the first thing Clint noticed. And then it was the matching black button-up that was clinging to the tight muscles lining his arms and chest to a point of desperation. He wore his usual black gloves that seemed to never come off. His hair was pulled back into a loose bun, strands escaping the knot and making it look effortlessly stylish. His face was peppered with an appropriate amount of stubble and his lips were glossy and pink from the alcohol. And Clint, being influenced by the alcohol in his own system, couldn’t get over how good Bucky looked. But alcohol aside, it was partly Bucky’s fault too, because those silver-grey, piercing eyes were zeroed in on Clint as well. Like they were challenging him.</p><p>And somehow, some way, between the strange eye-fucking at the party, and maybe another round or two of vodka, Clint had found his way into Bucky’s apartment, on his hands and knees and feeling better than he’d felt in a long time. Hot and panting, sweating from the heat between them, shuddering and twitching at the sensation of a thick and needy cock pressing against his prostate. Hands on his hips and fingers digging into his thighs, a mouth wet and sloppy on the back of his neck and shoulders, biting and licking and moaning deep and throaty into his ear. And then coming so hard that he’d blacked out.</p><p>Yeah. It was supposed to be a one time thing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A month after that party Clint was basking in his afterglow, stretching his arms and legs in a bed that was soon becoming more familiar to him than his own. He was naked on top of the covers, his bones felt like Jell-O and his hair was likely a mess from where it was tugged in all sorts of unorthodox positions.</p><p>Bucky came out of his bathroom in his boxers. His metal arm was on full display, glistening and wet from his shower. Clint actively kept his eyes off of it. It was never out when they were with friends, and before this arrangement of theirs, Clint had never seen it. He knew, they all knew, but Bucky was prone to wearing long sleeved shirts and gloves.</p><p>Bucky was rubbing a towel over his stomach where Clint had shot his load just ten minutes ago and scoffed. “You’re a mess,” Bucky said, then promptly tossed the towel onto Clint’s face.</p><p>“Rude,” Clint grunted, even if he felt his lips tugging up into a smile. He pulled the towel off his face and tossed it onto the floor. “I’m just getting a good stretch in before you kick me out.”</p><p>Bucky pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. Clint was slowly regretting his words. He didn’t want to come off as needy. He wasn’t needy. This was fine. What they had going was good enough for him. But, maybe, somewhere down the line, Clint had started feeling a tad put out when he was literally being put out after getting fucked to the moon and back.</p><p>And the regret came full force when Bucky actually did say something. “I’m sorry if this isn’t what you—"</p><p>“No!” Clint shot up, then cleared his throat when he realized his voice was louder than he’d meant for it to be. “No, I was joking. It’s okay.” He got up to gather his clothes. Better to leave now before he stuck his foot further in his mouth.</p><p>Bucky let out a heavy sigh, but seemed to except Clint’s answer for what it was. He walked over and sat heavily against his mattress. He watched Clint get dressed and asked, “You going to Nat’s thing this Friday?”</p><p>Clint buttoned up his pants and ran a hand through his scraggly hair when he turned to meet Bucky’s eyes. His mouth curled up and he shrugged. “Of course. She’s hell bent on making me go to all her little... whatever the hell you would call ‘em.”</p><p>“I think she used the words, ‘Alcohol-study-game-night.’” Bucky’s smile grew as he spoke.</p><p>Clint bent over with a cackle and shook his head, “Right. Because she’s on this responsibility kick, but wants to get drunk too.”</p><p>“Gotta commend her for her efforts,” Bucky said and Clint rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, last time I puked while she was quizzing Sam on Plato’s theory. I’m pretty sure we’re killing more brain cells than learning anything,” Clint said, even if he would likely be just like he was the week before, drinking every time he got a question right because somehow that was the game’s rules. Getting drunk off your ass was the apparent incentive. “Well,” Clint cleared his throat again. He was fully dressed and now was about the time when he should be heading out. “I guess I’ll see you there.”</p><p>“Yeah, guess so,” Bucky said, sounding a bit uncomfortable now. Which was normal. Whenever they finished it was idle chit chat and then Bucky not-so-subtly giving off <em>‘please leave’</em> energy. It didn’t go unnoticed and Clint refused to believe it hurt in any way. Because it didn’t. It was fine. Everything was fine.</p><p>And so, Clint gave a hasty goodbye and left, because that’s what was expected.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Okay Clint, go! Largest planet in the solar system,” Natasha shouted.</p><p>“Jupiter!” Clint shouted back, then took his shot before Natasha even said, ‘correct!’</p><p>“Bruce! What does laser stand for?” Natasha pointed and Bruce gave a very exaggerated eye roll.</p><p>“You’re kidding me. You gave Clint the easy one,” he said and Natasha shrugged.</p><p>“Just going down the list,” she said, her mouth quirking into a sly smile.</p><p>Bruce groaned, “Uh,” his eyes darted about, before he snapped his fingers when the answer came to him. “Light amplification by stimulated emission of radiation!”</p><p>“Correct!” she cheered and Bruce took his shot with a high five from Wanda.</p><p>The game was ridiculous. Clint knew it was ridiculous, but every week they used it as an excuse to get drunk. Clint didn’t have much of a choice when it came to his attendance, having Natasha as his best friend. But, Steve was there, so Bucky was there, and that was somewhat an added bonus and disadvantage. Not because Clint had a problem with them being there, but it was... distracting.</p><p>Bucky looked especially good in his long sleeved red shirt and dark jeans. He was relaxed on the couch in Natasha’s apartment next to Steve, obviously not paying much attention to the game. He had a beer in his hand and was nodding at something Steve whispered to him when Clint chanced a peek. Bucky just happened to be looking up, probably not intentionally at Clint, but it’d happened at the same time and despite whatever it was, Clint felt himself get hot all over when their eyes met. It was stupid, because it was just a look and who cares if Bucky’s eyes were insanely pretty. It probably didn’t mean anything anyway because after a few seconds, Bucky looked away and seemed to be fully engrossed in whatever Steve was saying.</p><p>Nobody knew about their arrangement. Bucky had made it clear that he wanted to keep it between them. Which was also fine. Perfectly fine.</p><p>And after Natasha had gotten too drunk to keep the game going, Clint tucked her in and everyone left.</p><p>He was in his apartment about an hour later when he got a text from Bucky.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Come over.</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>On a normal Sunday, Clint was free of class and work and usually spent it walking his dog and bugging Natasha to cook for him. She was busy, and one of his hearing aids broke so he’d spent half the morning getting a replacement, and then Lucky stepped in his own shit, so Clint’s day was going downhill fast.</p><p>And then faster, as he was couched down, fishing wipes out of his fanny pack—because yes he had a fanny pack for walking his dog because it was convenient and he refused to be judged—cursing at Lucky for finding this all too funny and trying to get his licks in while Clint wrestled with him to give him a paw, when a familiar shadow stood over him. Clint chanced a peek just as he’d successfully commandeered one of Lucky’s front paws, choked a little, then immediately looked back down at the task at hand, as if Bucky’s presence didn’t send a bit of panic to his stomach.</p><p>“Hey, Buck,” Clint said in his casual voice. Or what he thought was casual.</p><p>“Clint,” Bucky said in greeting, then got down on his haunches to be at eye level. He was looking at Lucky, and Lucky was fighting Clint’s hand to get closer so he could lick at Bucky’s face. “Who’s this?” Bucky asked, petting Lucky and allowing him to lap at his gloved hand.</p><p>Bucky wouldn’t know about Lucky. He wouldn’t know much about Clint, honestly. Except for maybe what his orgasm face looked like. And that being good or bad was debatable. “My asshole dog.”</p><p>“Hm,” Bucky nodded. “Didn’t know you had a dog.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Clint glared at Lucky as he switched to the next paw to clean. “Well I won’t have one soon if he doesn’t get his shit together.” Literally. Although it was a bluff, because Lucky was too fucking precious. Damn him.</p><p>He finished with his cleaning, then stood up with the tissue in one hand and Lucky’s leash in the other. Bucky followed suit, looking suddenly uncomfortable and Clint had to wonder why he’d even stopped in the first place.</p><p>Clint ignored the thought. “Trash? Trash? You see a trash can anywhere?” He whipped his head around.</p><p>Bucky pointed at the corner. “One right there.”</p><p>“Ah! Life saver,” he held the leash out to Bucky, thought twice about it, but then decided, <em>fuck it, why not?</em> “You mind? Just for a second.”</p><p>Bucky accepted the leash, albeit a bit hesitantly, and Clint dashed over to the trash can, narrowly avoiding ramming into a woman with a stroller. She glared, Clint apologized, and it was painfully awkward, but soon enough he disposed of the dirtied wet wipe and was rushing back to meet Bucky. Who was... okay... he was actually sort of gorgeous standing there letting Lucky lick up at him, standing on his hind legs and panting madly. Bucky was just smiling down at him, and it was so open and unguarded and unlike how Clint usually saw him, that yeah, it was gorgeous.</p><p>Clint cleared his throat once he was back, “Sorry, he’s a little monster.” Bucky handed back the leash and Lucky got down and sat next to Clint, acting as if he was obedient and not the same dog that ran out of Clint’s apartment chasing after the pizza delivery guy just two days ago.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Bucky said, and that guarded expression was back on.</p><p>Clint wasn’t sure exactly what he should say next. They were just standing on the sidewalk, and it was getting more and more uncomfortable the longer they stayed silent. “So, uh...” Clint started to say. “What’re you up to?”</p><p>Bucky shrugged, “Needed bread.” He held up a convenience store bag Clint hadn’t noticed until then.</p><p>“Oh cool,” was the best he could come up with. Then a second later, his mouth was moving before his brain told it to. “Wanna screw around?”</p><p>Bucky blinked at him. Shocked for at least five solid inscrutable seconds, and Clint was sweating and thinking <em>‘Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you, Barton?’ </em>But then Bucky shrugged and Clint was suddenly on autopilot.</p><p>They walked the few blocks it took to get back to Clint’s place and he lived alone so it didn’t matter if he got down on his knees and sucked Bucky off at the front door. Bucky returned the favor by removing the glove on his right hand—his real hand—and pulling Clint off until he came like a pitiful fool in the entryway of his apartment. It only felt a little bad when Bucky said he had to go and left Clint there to clean up the mess.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Bucky giving head was a special treat. It wasn’t often. Clint was able to count on one hand the amount of times Bucky offered to use his mouth. And when he did, Clint felt himself drifting further and further toward cloud nine than the times when he’d readily sat on Bucky’s lap and road him to the next town and back.</p><p>Bucky’s mouth was wet and hot. He was always focused and used a considerable amount of tongue and didn’t get upset if Clint jerked his hips a little too hard. He pulled Clint’s dick all the way to the back of his throat and swallowed. He licked around the head and poked his tongue into the slit because he knew Clint would whine and beg if he did. His used the thumb on his right hand to dig and rub into his balls, while his metal hand gripped Clint’s ass and dragged him closer.</p><p>And when Clint started to shake and squirm and call out to him, “Jesus, Bucky. I’m gonna come! Holy fucking shit,” he just sucked harder. The muscles in his mouth tightened and squeezed and Clint would shoot off, right down Bucky’s throat, then he'd get the pleasure of watching him swallow.</p><p>It really was a treat.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Two months in Clint was starting to realize his life was sort of a mess.</p><p>He was hanging out with Natasha on a night that was pretty much the usual for them when Clint wasn’t called over to Bucky’s for their secret escapades and when their friends weren’t around playing ridiculous drinking games with them. They sat on her couch watching Princess Diaries, because whatever. It’s not like Clint actually liked the movie or anything. They had beer and popcorn and Natasha’s head was in Clint’s lap and Clint was playing with her hair. It was nice, but Clint couldn’t even pay attention to the stupid movie he’d seen over a hundred times because he was thinking about someone who he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about nearly as much as he had in the past couple months.</p><p>“I like Bucky,” he said to her. Which was, admittedly, out of nowhere because they were on Ann Hathaway’s makeover scene and hadn’t said a word to each other since the movie started.</p><p>Natasha turned on her back to look up at him with curious, narrowed eyes. “What?”</p><p>Clint let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed his face with a rough hand.</p><p>At his silence, Natasha asked, “Since when?”</p><p>“Since we started fucking,” and he hadn’t actually meant to say that, but he was tired and didn’t feel like lying.</p><p>Natasha shot up, out of his lap, turned off the TV and turned to him all in the span of three seconds. “You did what?”</p><p>“Uh...” Clint dropped his hand and gave her a crooked smile. “Is it too late to take that back?”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Are you stupid?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Clint said and she seemed to get even more frustrated. He paused, tilted his head, then asked, “Wait. Why am I stupid?”</p><p>“Because he’s the last person you should be sleeping around with,” Natasha said with a long groan. And damn, she really looked disappointed. “You wouldn’t know, but Bucky’s got a lot of shit he’s dealing with, and...” she trailed off. Then huffed, “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”</p><p>“Too late for that,” he said, and he was smiling like it didn’t matter, but it did. Every time Bucky kicked him out or left his apartment after they'd done the deed hurt more than he wished it did.</p><p>Natasha gave him a look so full of pity that it made Clint itch.</p><p>“Please stop,” he said, and she knew him well enough that she averted her eyes.</p><p>“Look,” she started to say. “It’s just that he isn’t looking for that, and you... I know you. You get attached quickly. I mean, look at me,” she finally looked back at him, and the pity was mostly gone. Masked, most likely. “I told you I liked your shirt in the fifth grade and you asked me to be your best friend.”</p><p>“Okay, but it was a RoboCop shirt and that was my favorite movie at the time—”</p><p>“And when you went to help Sam at the animal shelter you came home with a one-eyed dog who consistently ate your food right off the table.”</p><p>“But, Lucky’s gotten so much better! At least he knows when I’m finished eating.”</p><p>She gave him a dry look. “You’re missing the point.”</p><p>Clint groaned and fell against the couch with his hands over his eyes, “No. I’m not. I see where you’re going with this.”</p><p>“Do you?” She pried one of his hands off his face so that she could look him in at least one eye. “Because just a few months ago you barely knew his name. And now you’re fucking him and saying you like him.”</p><p>Clint dropped his other hand and allowed Natasha to keep one locked in her grip. “I know he doesn’t like me like that. I know it’s just sex to him.” His tone was serious, and it rarely ever was so Natasha softened a bit at it. “I just— I don’t know. I like him. So, that’s that. I’m not gonna confess my love for him. I’m not gonna demand anything.”</p><p>“But you’ll sleep with him until your heart breaks and there’s nothing left?” Natasha questioned.</p><p>Clint gave her a long look, then sighed and shook his head. “Damn you.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Clint gave breaking things off with Bucky two attempts that failed miserably.</p><p>The first time wasn’t at all his fault. It really wasn’t.</p><p>Bucky texted him and Clint decided he’d go over after hours of practicing in the mirror all the ways he could call this weird-fuckbuddy-relationship a quits. But then he’d showed up and Bucky was in his boxers and had pulled him straight to the bedroom. Clint wasn’t able to think straight. And that’s how he would rationalize climbing on top of Bucky and kissing him until his clothes came off.</p><p>Then later how he would rationalize Bucky holding his legs up while he fucked him like it was his last day on earth.</p><p>The second time was...</p><p>Yeah, no, the second time was definitely Clint’s fault. He’d called Bucky over, but was more horny than he thought he was initially and had pulled the man into a kiss before even saying hi.</p><p>And then they were on the couch, clothes were shed and all bets were off.</p><p>It was another Sunday that Clint decided not to spend with Natasha when he saw Bucky a third time since his plan to end their... thing. And maybe Sundays were the days the universe planned to intervene and make Clint’s life worse.</p><p>He’d walked Lucky with only a minor incident involving a mail carrier, then settled on his couch to watch reality shows and tune out the world. And then his phone rung and he answered it without looking.</p><p>“If this is Barney, no, you can’t borrow any money. I’m fucking broke,” Clint said, because only Barney or Natasha called him, and if it was Natasha she’d just laugh.</p><p><em>“Who’s Barney?”</em> Bucky’s gruff, and unmistakable voice asked. Clint shot up, momentarily forgetting the beer in his hand and spilling it on his lap from the jerky movement.</p><p>“Shit. Shit,” Clint whispered as he got up to wipe off his pants and simultaneously keep Lucky from licking at the spilled alcohol.</p><p><em>“Everything okay?”</em> Bucky asked.</p><p>Clint cleared his throat, “Uh, Yeah. What’s up?” He grabbed the roll of paper towels he kept on his coffee table and soaked up the beer that spilled onto the floor while he waited for an answer.</p><p><em>“Just...”</em> Bucky trailed off. His voice sounded a bit different. <em>“Are you busy?”</em></p><p>Clint felt his stomach swirl with anxiety. “Not really, but,” he licked his lips. “I’m not really. Not tonight, I don’t...” God, he didn’t understand why it was so hard to say. Why it was so hard to tell Bucky no.</p><p>“We don’t have to have sex,” Bucky said and Clint bit the inside of his lip as a way of stopping himself from saying what he shouldn’t. And that could mean so many things at this point. Like, <em>are you sure? Because that was your rule. </em>Or, <em>since when does Bucky Barnes want anything other than sex from me? </em>Or, <em>are you planning to kill me, or something?</em></p><p>“Err, okay. Yeah, you can come over. I got beer,” he said and Bucky let out a long sigh of what seemed like relief.</p><p><em>“Thanks.”</em> He hung up after that and Clint wasn’t really sure what to do with himself.</p><p>He was currently in his pajama bottoms, that smelled like beer now, and had planned to stay that way throughout the day, save for his evening walk with Lucky. Now he wasn’t sure if he should get dressed or if that made it seem like he was trying too hard. And his apartment was a mess, not that that was the biggest revelation. Bucky had seen it, had shoved a mess of books and trash off of Clint’s table once to get him on top of it, so it wasn’t like Bucky was expecting it to be clean, right?</p><p>And even though he knew all this, he still changed into jeans and a clean T-shirt. He still swept and disposed of all the used ramen containers he typically forgot around his apartment. He even wiped off his coffee table. All just before he heard knocking at his door.</p><p>He rushed to open it, then realized he was rushing, so he slowed down a bit and calmed his breathing as he got to the door. When he did, Bucky was standing there and Clint’s heart went so far up his throat he didn’t hear Lucky bounding toward him, in between his legs, to get to Bucky until he was already tripping over and falling down, hard, on his ass.</p><p>“Fuck,” Clint groaned as he struggled to get up, but froze a bit when he heard chuckling above him.</p><p>He glared up, void of any real heat seeing as this was the first time he’d seen Bucky laugh, and that was something. Bucky had one gloved hand clamped over his mouth and his shoulder were shaking and Clint tried not to think it was precious as Bucky finally started to speak. “You’re pathetic,” he said. And it was a joke, but Clint couldn’t help but think<em> ‘In more ways than one.’</em></p><p>Luckily, he kept his mouth shut and simply rolled his eyes as he struggled to get up. Bucky reached out and helped him the rest of the way, then walked in and closed the door behind him. “Hey, buddy,” he said to Lucky, smiling and giving him a good scratch right behind the ear.</p><p>“Don’t spoil him. He’ll never leave you alone,” Clint warned as he walked back over to his couch and plopped down.</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bucky said, then slowly walked over to join him, Lucky sniffing at his heels. When he sat down, Clint noticed out the corner of his eyes that Bucky was looking around, inspecting his place, before saying, “You clean, or something?”</p><p>Clint cleared his throat and shrugged, “Yeah, I mean. I clean sometimes.”</p><p>Bucky snorted out a short laugh, “Could’ve fooled me.”</p><p>Clint smiled, though he tapered it down a bit. The TV was still on, but it was muted and the subtitles were on, and Clint realized that was probably weird so he went to unmute it. “Real housewives,” he said, as the volume came to life.</p><p>Bucky nodded, but didn’t say anything.</p><p>Clint chanced a peek at him, and Bucky’s face was about as passive as it got. He tilted his head and asked, “So, why did you wanna come over?”</p><p>Bucky looked at him, and there was something in his eyes, but Clint would never be able to decipher it.</p><p>“Not that I mind. It’s just... you never really...” he trailed off, and hoped Bucky would just infer the rest.</p><p>“Steve’s at Tony’s, and Sam is doing his group therapy thing.” And it was probably the short answer, because there seemed to be more to it, but Clint's mind was already on the next thing.</p><p>“Tony? Really? So, Steve gave into the Stark charm?” Clint asked and Bucky’s lips quirked up.</p><p>“Yeah. I don’t get it, but he won’t stop talking about him so,” he shrugged. “I guess he’s happy.”</p><p>“Damn. That’s good for him. Tony too. Steve’s really fucking hot,” Clint said, then froze, because Bucky wasn’t Natasha and he actually had his dick in Clint’s ass more times than Clint cared to count, so he probably didn’t love hearing about how hot his best friend is.</p><p>But, Bucky just snorted out another laugh and Clint felt himself relax a bit.</p><p>They watched the show for thirty minutes of silence when Bucky pointed at the screen and said, “Why is she arguing with an IV in her arm?”</p><p>Clint snorted and laughed and shrugged. “‘Cause Yolanda pissed her off.”</p><p>Bucky looked at him, “This is so dumb.”</p><p>Clint pointed, “But you’re enjoying yourself.”</p><p>Bucky pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything and Clint knew he won.</p><p>Bucky didn’t speak again until the episode ended, “Why don’t you ask about my arm?”</p><p>And Clint hadn’t expected that one bit. He swallowed his beer until it was empty, then sat the bottle on the coffee table before he countered, “Why don’t you ask why I can’t hear?”</p><p>Bucky chewed on his lip for a moment, then shrugged. “I figured you were born like that.”</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Clint said. Then smiled so that Bucky knew he wasn’t upset. “But, I figured if you wanted to tell me about your arm, you would.” Bucky gave a slow nod. When the room fell silent again, save for the TV and Lucky’s light snoring, Clint decided to blurt out, “I had meningitis as a kid. Lost most of my hearing.”</p><p>Bucky looked at him again and he brushed his fingers through Clint’s hair, just above where the hearing aid was clamped. “Oh,” Bucky said, and Clint felt a cold shiver run though him.</p><p>He dropped his hand and Clint let out a small breath he hoped went unnoticed. Whether or not Bucky heard it, he didn’t react to it.</p><p>“Car accident,” he said, then nodded toward the metal arm well hidden under the sleeve and glove. He didn’t elaborate, and Clint didn’t need him to.</p><p>The next episode started playing shortly after that and the energy in the room shifted back into something more casual. Hell, Clint hadn’t even realized until then that the atmosphere had been different. But by the time he noticed, Bucky was throwing his head back and groaning.</p><p>“God, how many more episodes of this are there?”</p><p>Clint barked out a laugh, “Oh, buckle in Bucky Barnes. It’s a whole marathon.”</p><p>And surprisingly enough, Bucky stuck around for three more episodes. Or at least, that was when Clint had fallen asleep. And when he woke up, Bucky was gone.</p><p>There was post-it note stuck to his face. He removed it groggily and read aloud, “Thanks for drooling on my shirt. I took Lucky out. I might have to steal him.”</p><p>By the end of the note Clint realized he was grinning. He crumbled it and held it in a fist to his mouth while he tried to get his heart to stop beating out of control.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>After the first hang out there were more, and Clint didn’t think too much about breaking things off anymore. That probably wasn’t a good thing, but who the hell was going to tell him otherwise?</p><p>Besides Natasha, who didn’t say much about it anymore, but always seemed to judge him silently with her eyes. Which was somehow worse.</p><p>But, Bucky was actually fun, and funny. He had a weird sense of humor. He laughed when Clint told his horribly dad-level jokes and didn’t seem to mind when Clint did something like run into a pole while they walked Lucky. And now whenever Bucky decided to come by and join him for a walk he would shout “Pole!” and it was incredibly embarrassing despite how hard Clint would laugh or slap at Bucky’s prosthetic to get him to stop. They watched reality shows together and Clint had even egged Bucky into watching Princess Diaries because Bucky had never seen it. And no, it’s not Clint’s favorite movie, but maybe he could admit that it wasn’t awful and everyone had to see it at least once, right?</p><p>The sex was still amazing. Just slower. It wasn’t hurried or rushed in the way that some of their previous trysts had been. And every now and then Clint would fall asleep afterwards and Bucky wouldn’t kick him out until the morning.</p><p>And then there were times like now, where Bucky was sitting on Clint’s couch and they were making out that Clint had the terribly dangerous idea that this thing between them was something more.</p><p>When they broke for air, Bucky had his fingers in Clint’s hair, soothing it back while he gazed into Clint’s eyes and it was something like warm acid filling Clint’s entire being as he realized that at least for this one moment he was the center of Bucky’s world and that just fucked with his head even more.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Three months into their thing—because it wasn’t a relationship, it was just a thing—it was a Tuesday. Clint finished his class and realized he hadn’t eaten anything that day. So, after he got home he decided he’d take Lucky out to one of the restaurants that had outdoor seating within walking distance. It was kind of freezing out now, coming up on November in New York, but Clint didn’t care as much and would just throw on an extra shirt to combat the wind.</p><p>He had his phone in his hand before he thought better of it and clicked on Bucky’s name to initiate a call.</p><p>
  <em>“Clint?”</em>
</p><p>“Hey, you hungry?” There was a pause, and Clint tried not to regret this decision. They’d been hanging out pretty steadily for the past month, and while they hadn’t technically gone out to eat together, they had eaten in front of each other before, and this didn’t seem like a very outlandish thing to ask. In any case, it wasn’t a date.</p><p><em>“Uh, sure. I haven’t eaten,” </em>Bucky said after the prolonged wait and Clint fought to keep himself from sighing in relief.</p><p>“Cool. I’m going to that taco place down the street from my apartment. Wanna meet me there?”</p><p>There was another long pause and Clint had to bite his lip to keep from blurting something out. He was already waiting at his door with Lucky and feeling like a loser, so adding salt to that wound didn’t seem like a great idea.</p><p><em>“Alright,”</em> Bucky finally said. <em>“Just text me where.”</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Clint waited at Hacienda Mexican Grill for twenty minutes before Bucky walked up the sidewalk into view where Clint was sitting under the awning with Lucky. He started to smile and wave and Bucky looked up to give him this small smile that nearly short-circuited Clint’s brain.</p><p>But then Steve appeared beside him a second later and something strange settled in his gut like a nasty virus.</p><p>“Hey Clint,” Steve said as they walked through the door separating the outdoor seating area from the rest of the world. He clamped a hand on Clint’s shoulder in passing, then pulled up a chair and sat. Lucky immediately gravitated toward him, licking and nuzzling into Steve’s legs now that he was within sniffing range.</p><p>Bucky sat in the chair at the opposite end of the small table, facing Clint. And Clint did his best to keep the smile on his face.</p><p>“Hey, boy. Did you miss me?” Steve cooed at Lucky, petting his head and laughing when Lucky tried to jump up and lick his face.</p><p>It’s not like Clint didn’t like Steve. He’d been friends with him since freshman year. Well before he’d known Bucky existed. Sam had introduced Steve to him and Natasha back then, and the guy was so nice, there wasn’t much not to like.</p><p>But, that nasty feeling was still swirling around in his stomach, persistent, and making him feel sick.</p><p>Once Steve had had enough of Lucky, he sighed happily and gave Clint a bright smile. “Well. This is nice. I didn’t know you and Buck were friends.”</p><p>Clint nodded, stomping on the part of him that screamed that there was more to it, and said, “It just sort of happened.”</p><p>“Really?” Steve looked to Bucky, who’d remained quiet the entire time. And it wouldn’t have been so weird if Clint hadn’t been gifted the pleasure of knowing how Bucky really was. How he liked to talk when it was just the two of them. That he had a weird thing for motorcycles and would point out different ones while they walked. That he hated tomatoes and was not afraid of pointing out how gross Clint was for the amount of ketchup he put on his hotdogs.</p><p>Bucky just shrugged.</p><p>Clint sucked in a breath, but didn’t allow himself to react more than that. The waiter came, and Clint spent the entire meal catching up with Steve about his thesis.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Over a week after Hacienda, Clint hadn’t called or texted Bucky and Bucky hadn’t called or texted him, and he felt miserable.</p><p>It was Saturday and he'd just gotten off work at the gun range. He sort of just wanted to curl up in his bed with a slice of pizza or masturbate, but heavy knocking on his door stopped him before he came up with a solid plan.</p><p>He grumbled and griped as he peeled himself out of bed toward his door. When he opened it, Natasha was standing on the other side wearing a short black dress, a thick coat that was unzipped and heels that made her legs look fucking incredible.</p><p>“Well, you look hot. What’s the occasion?” Clint said, then yawned and stretched his hands tiredly over his head.</p><p>Natasha rolled her eyes as she pushed past him into his apartment. Lucky came up, but then immediate sat when Natasha held a finger toward him and Clint was pretty sure she knew witchcraft.</p><p>“Get dressed, we’re going to a party,” she said, then turned toward him with a look that said there was no getting out of it.</p><p>Regardless, he groaned and put up his best fight. “What? But I don’t wanna,” he whined. And okay, it wasn’t his best fight, but it was the best he could muster.</p><p>“Well, you’re gonna,” she said, then marched toward his room. Presumably to find something decent for him to wear. He followed after her.</p><p>“Why? I was perfectly fine here with my good luck charm,” he plopped onto his bed and Lucky followed, laying right on Clint’s chest like he didn’t weigh 60 pounds.</p><p>“You’re not fine. You’re moping,” Natasha said.</p><p>“I’m not moping.”</p><p>“You are.”</p><p>“Are not.”</p><p>“Are too. So, shut up and get dressed,” she pulled out a pair of tight black jeans and threw them on Clint’s face.</p><p>He pulled them off and glared at her. “I’m fine. Why don’t you think I’m fine?”</p><p>“Because you’re not. I texted you about the archery show coming up and you said ‘okay.’” She turned with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow arched knowingly.</p><p>Clint rolled off the bed, pushing Lucky off along the way, and pulled off his pajama pants to replace them with the jeans. “That doesn’t mean I’m not fine,” he grumbled, then caught the green sweater she tossed at him before it hit him on the face next. “And will you please stop throwing clothes at me? Where are we going, anyway?” He pulled on the sweater and then grabbed the coat that had ended up on his floor for whatever reason and followed her out of the room.</p><p>“Stark’s having another party.”</p><p>Clint rolled his eyes, “Oh, great.” He grabbed his keys, gave Lucky a pet, then followed Natasha out the door.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>An hour into the party, Clint had forgotten why he didn’t want to go. That was mostly because he’d gotten drunk and turned off his aids and allowed himself to get lost in the madness.</p><p>Someone had come up to him at some point after his sixth shot, danced with him, whispered in his ear, and Clint couldn’t hear fuck-all so who cares what what’s-his-name was saying. And yeah, he could’ve been telling Clint that he wanted to mutilate him in a dark alley, but whatever. It worked.</p><p>Clint pulled the stranger along and danced with him to the dull beat of the music in yet another one of Stark’s New York mansions. This one was in Manhattan.</p><p>Clint had his arms propped on the stranger’s shoulders and his hands in his hair and the stranger’s hands were tucked in his back pockets. It was nice. It was easy to forget about a certain one-armed, long haired, recluse who was his not-boyfriend anyway, when he was grinding against someone else. And the grinding was nice, because Clint was getting horny from the alcohol and didn’t mind too much that the guy he was dancing with was a little shorter than he would’ve liked and a bit peppier than what he usually went for, because the guy was grinding back and mouthing at his neck and that was also nice.</p><p>But then something tugged at his arm and pulled him away from the stranger, which was more than a little disorienting when he couldn’t hear what was going on and was so drunk that it gave him a bit of vertigo.</p><p>When he looked up, he was shocked to see Bucky there, looking absolutely pissed, clutching his arm and saying... something? If he’d been less drunk he would’ve been able to read his lips, but things were getting a bit hazy and suddenly he felt sick.</p><p>Bucky pulled him, like he wanted Clint to follow him, but Clint didn’t know what he was saying, and the sickness was getting worse. So, he braced himself with his free hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder and bent forward.</p><p>He’d like to think that he hadn’t vomited there in the middle of where people were dancing, right on Bucky’s sweater, but he’s pretty sure that’s not true. He passed out soon after.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When he woke up the next morning he was in his own bed and his brain felt like it had been turned into scrambled eggs. His ears felt clogged and the dull pounding from his headache only made it worse. Not to mention the taste in his mouth that was both dry and acrid. He was dying for some mouthwash.</p><p>But then he realized that the last thing he remembered was dancing, and not putting himself to bed. Then it was that he was in his boxers. Then that his hearing aids were on his nightstand. And somehow lastly it was the person sleeping beside him, and the cold brush of metal that he felt from under the covers.</p><p>
  <em>Okay.</em>
</p><p>Clint rubbed at his eyes and groaned from the pressure building behind his eye sockets.</p><p>He tried to remember more, but that only made his head feel worse. He only got vague flashes of Bucky’s face and vomit and that didn’t make him feel any better.</p><p>Bucky said something beside him that he couldn’t hear and Clint wasn’t sure if he’d woken him up or if Bucky had been awake the whole time and he just hadn’t noticed.</p><p>He quickly reached over and put in his aids, then turned to Bucky, “Uh, what?”</p><p>Bucky stared at him for a moment, then huffed through his nose. “Sorry,” he said, and he must’ve been talking about the aids, or that he hadn’t thought to wait until Clint could hear before he’d started speaking, and Clint felt sort of warm inside, but maybe that was just his body telling him that he needed to expel more of the alcohol he’d poured into his system the night before.</p><p>Clint didn’t know what he wanted to say first, so his mind went to the first thing he could think of, “Did I wake you up?”</p><p>Bucky shook his head, “I walked Lucky. He was whining.”</p><p>“Oh,” Clint said, then looked over to where Lucky was curled at the foot of the bed. “You didn’t have to.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.”</p><p>“I mean, you could’ve woken me up.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Clint huffed. He really didn’t know what was going on. Or why Bucky was even in bed with him.</p><p>“Did we...?” he trailed off and Bucky seemed to stiffen for a moment, before relaxing again.</p><p>“No. We didn’t do anything last night. You were really drunk.”</p><p>Clint scoffed, “No kidding.”</p><p>“You puked on me too,” he said next, and Clint winced this time.</p><p>“Err, sorry about that. I uh... you can borrow some of my clothes, or something.”</p><p>“Sure,” Bucky said, and Clint didn’t know where this was going, but his head was hurting and he sort of wanted Bucky to leave before he said anything stupid. Or embarrassing. Or both. “Do you remember anything? After we got here?”</p><p>“What? After the party?” Clint laughed a little and shook his head. He regretted that a little, because it reminded him of the pressure in his skull, but he tried to ignore it. “No. I just remember being at the party. Dancing.” He squinted his eyes. “At least, I’m pretty sure I was dancing at some point.”</p><p>Bucky bit his lip and looked away and that was odd. And cute. But mostly odd. Clint didn’t know what the hell was going on, but Bucky was definitely acting weird.</p><p>“I should go,” Bucky said. Then he got up and did just that. Leaving with clothes from Clint’s closet and making this the most confusing morning Clint’s had in a long, long time.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“So, who’s Barney?” Bucky asked.</p><p>It was just three days after that very weird morning and they were on the couch in Bucky’s apartment watching Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. And it wasn’t a good movie, but Clint liked robots so whatever. And Bucky had already told Clint that his taste in movies was questionable, so he didn’t let himself feel bad about it.</p><p>“My brother,” Clint answered.</p><p>“You two close?” Bucky asked and Clint wondered why. Because they’d hung out twice since the odd morning and Bucky had been asking more questions like he was genuinely interested in Clint’s life, and Clint really wanted to know <em>why</em>.</p><p>Clint shrugged, “Sort of. We got closer after my dad passed.” Bucky nodded but didn’t say anything else. Clint looked at him, “You have any siblings?”</p><p>Bucky flinched, but just shook his head. That was the end of that.</p><p>They watched the rest of the movie in silence and, when it was over, Bucky’s hand was in Clint’s pants and nothing really mattered anymore.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A week after that, Clint woke up in Bucky’s bed. Which wasn’t a first, by all means, but Bucky was there this time. Not showering or getting ready for class. It was a Sunday, so neither of them had anything pressing that day. Except for Lucky, who would definitely shit on Clint’s floor if he wasn’t home by noon.</p><p>But it was only nine in the morning and Bucky had stirred awake along with him. Clint grabbed his aids and put them in, then started to get up, maybe apologize too because he’d taken up a considerable amount of the bed, but Bucky just pulled him back down. He pushed Clint down into the mattress, climbed on top of him and kissed him and Clint didn’t know what to think.</p><p>But he also wasn’t going to say no. It didn’t take him long to realize he couldn’t when it came to Bucky. That definitely said something about him, but he wouldn’t dig too deep into it.</p><p>The kissing quickly went from lazy to hot and needy. They were both already naked, so it was easy for Clint to slip a hand down and stroke Bucky’s dick after feeling it press and twitch against his thigh. Bucky moaned into his mouth and flicked his tongue along Clint’s bottom lip and it felt incredible.</p><p>Clint wasn’t even paying attention when Bucky grabbed the lube, but he felt it when cold, wet fingers pressed into him. He was already pretty loose from the night before, so they slipped in easy. And then Bucky was sliding two fingers in and out, digging at his prostate and turning Clint into a shaking, quivering mess and it wasn’t fair, because it was just that easy for Bucky to make a mess of him.</p><p>It wasn’t long before Clint was pressing down on his hand, urging him to go deeper while making noises he refused to admit were actually coming out of his mouth. Bucky just chuckled and bit at his lips while going at a pace he knew would be torturous.</p><p>Clint groaned and snapped, “You gonna fuck me or not, Barnes?”</p><p>Bucky pulled away and raised an eyebrow at him. If he wanted to look offended, the curl of his lips gave him away. “Patience is a virtue,” Bucky said, then pulled his fingers in and out at an even slower pace.</p><p>Clint squirmed, “One I wasn’t blessed with.”</p><p>Bucky chuckled, then pulled his fingers out all the way. Clint whined at the feeling, but Bucky was only away for the second it took him to grab a condom off his nightstand. Clint watched, somewhat transfixed, as Bucky removed the wrapping before sliding the latex sleeve on. And when he was done, he curled his right arm under Clint’s back and flipped them over so that Clint was in his lap.</p><p>Bucky laid back, pulling Clint forward so that their cocks slid together. Clint grabbed at Bucky’s chest and moaned louder than he’d meant to. Bucky nodded up at him and said, “Ride me.”</p><p>Clint felt his throat dry out. He swallowed, feeling like he wouldn’t be able to speak properly otherwise, and cracked a smile. “Like morning exercise?”</p><p>Bucky laughed, and Clint didn’t think he’d heard a more genuine laugh from him than in this moment. And then he shrugged and nodded, “Sure.”</p><p>Clint chuckled, but climbed higher so he could position himself. And wow, Bucky’s eyes were amazing. The way they grew large and dilated as they watched him, how they rolled to the back of his head when Clint pressed down and filled himself up with his cock, how when they focused on Clint after that, they were shades darker.</p><p>Clint pressed against Bucky’s chest to move himself up and used him as leverage as he came back down. He hissed and moaned at the feeling. Bucky’s hands were clawing at his thighs, hips and ass. He was careful not to grip too hard with his metal hand, but he didn’t pull away. He helped guide Clint, rocking his hips up to meet him halfway, pulling him forward and back with each thrust, making sure Clint felt all of him.</p><p>And maybe it was because they’d done this so many times. By now, they knew what each other liked, how they wanted to be touched, how they wanted to be fucked, but God, Clint didn’t think he’d ever felt it like this before. Bucky wouldn’t take his eyes off of him.</p><p>It got worse when Bucky sat up, knees bent behind Clint, hands on his hips, actively lifting Clint up and down on his cock while teasing at his lips with his tongue, sucking on them and leaving them red and swollen.</p><p>Clint’s hands found their way into Bucky’s hair. He fisted and pulled on it while the pounding got harder and faster. They were both sounding out of breath, filling the room with their moans and likely waking a neighbor or two, but Clint didn’t care. He was too gone. Too lost with Bucky wrapped around him like this. And with the added pressure of his dick sliding between them, gaining friction from how hard Bucky was thrusting up into him, grinding the head of his dick against Bucky’s abs, it didn’t take long for him to feel his balls getting tight.</p><p>Bucky grabbed Clint’s shoulder with one hand while keeping the metal one on his hip. He gripped his shoulder and pulled him down hard and Clint screamed when he felt his orgasm shoot through him like a bullet. But Bucky didn’t let up, still gripping and pulling him down while he pumped his hips up, all the while milking Clint of everything he had left. And it wasn’t until Clint’s dick started twitching, spilling out the last of his release, that Bucky came. His movements slowed down with a long groan. He finally tore his eyes off of Clint and laid his head to rest on his shoulder. He was breathing hard and scraping dull nails against Clint’s back while his cock spasmed and filled the condom.</p><p>Clint was still cooling off when he started laughing. His arms were wrapped around Bucky and he felt like he was going to melt right into him.</p><p>And then he did something stupid.</p><p>And, okay, maybe he saw it coming, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t do something this stupid <em>right</em> after mind blowing sex. But, sometimes his life was painfully tragic, and most times it was his fault.</p><p>So, he tried not to hate himself too much the second he heard himself say, “I love you.”</p><p>But he hated himself a little pretty much right away when he felt Bucky’s hand go stiff on his back. And the fact that Bucky was just breathing hard but now seemed to have stopped breathing entirely, was also a bit terrifying.</p><p>“I’m gonna go,” Clint said. Which, of course, was just as uncomfortable as not saying anything at all, because Bucky was still half-hard inside of him, and he had to get up like that wasn’t the case at all. But it was, and when he did get up, Bucky hissed and Clint felt even worse, but he was too confused with himself to do anything about it.</p><p>So, he hurriedly pulled on his clothes and practically ran out of the room with Bucky still in that same position with a used condom on, looking like Clint had just slapped him hard in the face.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Two weeks later Natasha hosted another game night, drinking party thing, and Clint had gone, because he always went. But Bucky wasn’t there, and it’s not like Clint wanted him to be there, because the last time they saw each other sucked big time, but it’s not like he didn’t want him there either.</p><p>Steve was there and Tony was sitting in his lap talking about something with Bruce, and Clint just sipped his beer and thought <em>‘must be nice.’</em></p><p>He stayed behind and helped Natasha clean up afterwards. She hadn’t had much to drink, and neither had Clint, since he’d declined to answer most of the questions thrown his way. Natasha noticed, because that’s what she does. She notices things. Clint wasn’t surprised when her first words to him once everyone left were, “So, what happened with Bucky?”</p><p>“Nothing happened,” he lied as he gathered all the beer bottles he could fit in one arm.</p><p>“Okay, what did you do?” She said, holding a trash bag out so he could dump the bottles inside.</p><p>Clint sighed and rubbed over his eyebrow once his hands were free. “I uh...” he huffed, dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head. “I told him I loved him,” he grumbled.</p><p>Natasha shoved his shoulder with more force than Clint was ready for. He stumbled back and luckily landed on the couch.</p><p>“Jesus—"</p><p>“You did not tell him that,” she said, and Clint froze, before letting out a heavy sigh and nodding. “Oh, my God.”</p><p>“I know,” Clint said, picking himself up from the couch.</p><p>“You told him you loved him?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“And what did he say?”</p><p>Clint shrugged, “Nothing, I guess.”</p><p>“You guess?”</p><p>“Well, I...” he scratched the back of his head. “I sort of... I don’t know. I left. I didn’t wait for him to say anything.”</p><p>“When was this?”</p><p>“A couple weeks ago.”</p><p>Natasha just stared at him for a while after that.</p><p>“What?” he snapped when he couldn’t take the scrutiny any longer.</p><p>“Do you?” she asked, and it wasn’t at all what he was expecting.</p><p>“Do I... what?”</p><p>“Do you love him?” she pressed and Clint felt a very familiar feeling warming his chest, suffocating him.</p><p>“Yeah. I think so,” he answered. It was the best he could give her.</p><p>She dropped it after that. Clint wasn’t really sure why. Maybe she thought she’d lost the battle. Maybe she didn’t think there was much else she could say. And really, what could she say?<em> ‘I told you so?’ </em>Natasha could be an ass, but that wasn’t her, not when Clint was so obviously suffering.</p><p>So, they finished cleaning without saying much. He gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek, and then left.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He walked from Natasha’s place back to his and froze the minute he got within ten feet of his apartment building.</p><p>It was dark and cold in early December. Cold enough that a hint of rain would surely lead to heavy snow. But, standing there, bunched in a coat by his apartment building entrance was most definitely Bucky.</p><p>He forced himself to take the next few steps that would bring them face to face. And it hurt, because Bucky was obviously not looking for anything more than what they had, and Clint had said something that definitely breached the boundaries of that thing. And now, it seemed, this was going to be <em>the talk</em>, and that was never a good thing. </p><p>But he also wondered why Bucky would wait to cut him off in person. He could have texted him. Although that would’ve fucking sucked. He could’ve called too. Not wait outside in ice age temperatures just to tell Clint to fuck off.</p><p>And he was so obviously freezing. Standing just a foot away now, Clint could see how red his nose was getting and how much he was shaking as he attempted to bunch himself up in his coat.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Clint asked, and his tone was light. Not so much accusing as it was curious.</p><p>Bucky huffed out a laugh, and his teeth chattered before he was able to speak.</p><p>“Oh, my God. Come on,” Clint said before Bucky had the chance. He pushed Bucky forward and let them into his building, before leading them down the hall to his apartment.</p><p>As soon as they got in, Clint was happy he’d left the heat on, because it immediately hugged around them, and hopefully saved Bucky from getting hypothermia.</p><p>Clint ushered Bucky over to his couch, ignoring Lucky, who jumped and wiggled and whined as they entered. He sat Bucky down and ran to his room to grab his comforter. When he came back, Bucky was shaking worse as Clint wrapped the blanket around him. “Th-thanks,” Bucky stammered out.</p><p>Clint sat on his coffee table in front of him. “Are you insane?” he asked, because what the actual fuck was Bucky thinking?</p><p>Bucky laughed and tilted his head, “Maybe.”</p><p>Clint rolled his eyes.</p><p>Bucky took a minute or so to calm his body down. Soon he was breathing normal and shaking less.</p><p>Once Bucky was fully settled, and properly heated, Clint figured he should speak first, “Look, you didn’t have to come all the way down here to break things off with me.”</p><p>Bucky’s eyes widened, “What?”</p><p>Clint laughed a little. It was dry, and he hoped it didn’t sound too bitter. “I get it. It was weird. I didn’t mean to make things weird, but I did. So it’s okay.”</p><p>“No,” Bucky said.</p><p>“And, if you wanna make sure I—what? No? No, what?” Clint blinked, having just registered what Bucky had said.</p><p>“I’m not—,” he sighed, sounding frustrated. He removed the covers a bit as he was obviously working something out in his head. He started again, “Just... hear me out, okay?”</p><p>Clint clamped his mouth shut and nodded.</p><p>Bucky fidgeted a bit. His eyes darted about before he started to speak, “I lied, when I told you I didn’t have a sibling.”</p><p>Clint blinked at that, then tilted his head, trying to figure out why that would be important. Or why Bucky would lie about that.</p><p>Bucky went on, “Rebecca. She was four years younger than me.”</p><p>Clint sucked in a breath as the realization dawned on him.</p><p>“I was driving her home from school when we got into the accident. Some drunk driving asshole in a truck hit us while we were crossing an intersection. Locked my arm between the door and the seat,” he motioned toward his arm. “It pushed us out into another road, and a car hit the passenger side head on. That driver died. So did my sister. By the time they got me out of the car and to the hospital, there was so much dead tissue there that they had to remove the whole thing.”</p><p>Clint’s eyes widened, and he had enough house training to know that he should keep his mouth shut. Bucky was calm while he spoke, likely after however many years of therapy. And it didn’t feel like he was telling Clint so that he would feel bad for him. It felt more like he wanted Clint to understand something. Something deep and personal.</p><p>“I just...” Bucky sighed. “I had a hard time getting close to new people. And you,” he gestured to Clint. “I don’t know, you were always so weird and I liked that. But, I didn’t think I could have more than what... than the sex, you know? I just didn’t think I could do that, but I always wanted it to be you."</p><p>“What?” Clint blurted out. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it hurt. He wasn’t sure if he heard that right. “You liked me? Even before?”</p><p>Bucky gave a sad smile and shrugged, “Yeah.”</p><p>“What changed?” Clint asked as he attempted to process what Bucky was saying. "I mean," he licked his lips. "Why did you start hanging out with me and stuff, if you didn't think you could..." he trailed off. </p><p>“I kept wanting more,” Bucky said, and this time his smile was more genuinely.</p><p>Clint busted out into a near-hysterical bout of laughter. Because, honestly, he couldn’t think to do anything other than laugh.</p><p>When he cooled down, he shook his head and punched Bucky hard on his real arm. “Ow! What the fuck,” Bucky yelped.</p><p>“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Clint shouted. “What the fuck! I felt like shit thinking you were just playing along. And then we started hanging out and the kissing and...and I thought something was happening! And then I ask you to go get tacos with me, and okay, no, it wasn’t really a date, but you bring fucking <em>Steve</em> along and don’t say a goddamn word to me, so I just... what the fuck?” Clint was out of breath when he was done, and Bucky was just staring at him with wide eyes. He assumed he probably looked like a crazy person, but that didn’t really matter because he was really happy and really angry at the same time and that was a very confusing place to be.</p><p>Bucky finally let out a sigh and his eyes turned apologetic while he idly rubbed at where Clint hit him. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I brought Steve with me because when you asked me to eat with you I got really nervous.”</p><p>“Well,” Clint huffed. “It felt really shitty.”</p><p>Bucky rolled his eyes, “Not worse than you humping some guy at Tony’s party.”</p><p>Clint gasped, “I wasn’t... I didn’t... wait, did I?”</p><p>Bucky gave him a look and Clint started laughing. “It’s not funny. I was pissed,” Bucky grumbled.</p><p>“Yeah, well, serves you right for waiting so long to tell me,” Clint said and Bucky just rolled his eyes again.</p><p>For a moment, the room feel silent, and Clint wasn’t exactly sure where to go from there. Were they boyfriends now? Should he be looking for matching promise rings? Wedding invitations?</p><p>“That wasn’t the first time you said it,” Bucky said and Clint tore away from his deranged line of thought.</p><p>“Said what?”</p><p>“That night of the party. When I took you home,” Bucky said, rubbing over his lips while he spoke. “You kept trying to make out in the cab.”</p><p>Clint snorted out a laugh. Yeah, that sounded like him.</p><p>“And then,” Bucky continued. “When I got you back here, you told me you were uh, that you were in love with me.”</p><p>Clint paled. Sure, maybe he shouldn’t feel so embarrassed. He said those very words while fully conscious. But that didn’t necessarily make him feel any less mortified.</p><p>“I uh,” Bucky cleared his throat, pulling Clint’s attention once more. “I told you, that I felt the same. That night, when you first said it.”</p><p>Clint’s eyes widened, “You did?”</p><p>Bucky bit his lip and nodded.</p><p>“Shit,” Clint whispered. He looked down, then back up. “Will you say it again?”</p><p>Bucky quickly shook his head, “Why don’t we just make out or something? Boyfriend stuff.”</p><p>Clint laughed, “No! Come on! I didn’t get to hear you say it!”</p><p>“But, I said it. So, can we move on?” Bucky said, but he was smiling now.</p><p>“You heard me say it twice!” Clint whined.</p><p>“You heard me. You just don’t remember,” Bucky argued.</p><p>“That is bullshit,” Clint stood and started to walk away.</p><p>Bucky reached up and grabbed his arm, yanking him down into his lap. Clint yelped, but then laughed as soon as Bucky’s lips touched his.</p><p>When they parted, Bucky grinned and shrugged, “I’ll say it again someday.”</p><p>Clint was pretty sure it was only supposed to be a one time thing, and it turned into a months’ long thing, but that was okay. Because in the end after that one night that neither of them fully remembered, they had each other.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!! Let me know what you think and all that. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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